I’m going home. To Blake. To mywife.
And I’m not going to waste this second chance to make all my wrongs right.
CHAPTER 5
BLAKE
Did he mean it?
I close my eyes, rinsing the suds out of my hair and trying to convince myself it’s impossible.
“I don’t know. I…might not come back at all.”
This is another trick, another way Nero’s trying to manipulate me. Why would he come back to New York just to die? He wouldn’t do that to protect me. My father would have never put my mother’s life above his own, and Nero is just like him. A criminal who thinks about himself first and foremost.
There’s something he’s not telling me. This situation is likely far more complicated than he made it seem. Nero must have a plan to smooth things over with his boss and these Ferraro people. In a few hours, he’ll be back.
I step out of the shower and wrap a thick white towel around me. This bathroom is so big it takes me five steps to reach the marble vanity. I drag my fist over the fogged-up mirror and stare at my reflection.
The bruises are beginning to fade. Apparently, they’re as impermanent as my conviction, because the question still lingers.
What if he meant it?
If he was truly willing to lay down his life in exchange for saving mine…then Istilldon’t know who he really is.
My husband is a mystery to me.
The words I said to him echo inside my head.“I hate you. I hope I never see you again, Nero.”
My stomach clenches painfully. Why did I say that? If those are the last words I ever say to him, I won’t forgive myself. I was so angry that I wasn’t thinking straight. It didn’t feel good to spit that vitriol at him, and yet I couldn’t hold it back.
I’m furious with that man, but I don’t want him dead.
What I want is for him to come back here in one piece and tell me that I’m free to leave. There has to be somewhere other than here where I can live safely.
Australia. That’s far enough, isn’t it? The Iron Raptors won’t chase after me if I’m on the other side of the globe. If I can get a fake passport and a bit of money, I’ll be set. I’ll find a simple job and live a simple life, and I’ll convince Del to come visit me once a year.
Since when do you want a simple life? What happened to your thirst for adventure, passion, romance?
It disappeared once I realized living the plot of a romantic thriller is a lot more difficult than simply reading it.
I dry off, pull on some clothes, and venture outside.
My footsteps are quiet as I walk through the palatial penthouse.
The open-concept living space feels like three rooms in one. The kitchen alone is the size of my old house. Arched windows. Dark hardwood floors. Black granite countertops. I grab a rag and wipe off the thin layer of dust that’s collected on them since Nero’s been gone.
The largest bedroom is a sanctuary of dark tones and extravagantly crafted furniture. I walk up to the heavy wooden desk and sift through the drawers, finding Montblanc pens, lighters, and an old case of Cuban cigars. The walk-in closet is full of crisp dress shirts, tailored suits, and silk ties. There’s an entire case of watches that look like they should be locked inside a safe, but I suppose there’s no need for that when this entire penthouse is basically a safe.
I find two more bedrooms, an astounding five baths, an office, a sauna, and even a gym filled with equipment.
The level of luxury is hard for me to comprehend. How did a man used to all of this manage to become Rowan, owner of a home renovation company in an inconsequential small town?
I get lost, then find my way back, only to get lost again. Everything in this penthouse screams expensive, but the loudest feature is the view.
I don’t have my phone, so I can’t check my location, but I’m pretty sure I’m looking at the Brooklyn Bridge down below. The skyline on the other side of the river is a glittering silhouette against the dark sky.
My fingertips make contact with the glass. It’s thick and sturdy, without a latch and no way to open it. There’s no way out of here but through the front door.
